The New Kids In Town: Origins
by Akikazemoon
Summary: A few side stories based off of The New Kids In Town. Just how did the gang become Infected? Each has their own story to tell...and their own past long forgotten.
1. Taunter

Alright, new story! Okay, guys, this is a series of oneshots based off of the characters from my other Left 4 Dead fanfic, called The New Kids In Town. This fic is to show how each of the characters became an infected, and who they were before. This one takes a bit of a more serious and dark turn compared to the other one. Well, anyway, I hope that you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Left 4 Dead or Left 4 Dead 2 in any way, shape, or form! I only own my own character, and the plot of this story.

…...

She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket again. She never put it onto a ringtone because she didn't like any of the ringtones already on the phone, and didn't want to have to buy new ones. She sighed as she checked the screen. It was her mom again. She promptly ignored the call, slipping the phone back into her pocket. It had been about a week since she had been at home, and her mother still kept on bugging her about coming back. But she wanted to be out on her own. Or at least, away from her parents. She had been staying at her friend's house for a few days. Their parents were constantly away, so there was no one to reject the notion. Her phone buzzed again, this time a text.

"Hey riley u wanna come hang out?" was what the phone read. Yes, her name was Riley. She really liked the name. Apparently it was an Irish name, and it felt unique to her because it was usually a boy's name. It helped her feel like she was different from the masses of other people out there.

"I cant im busy" she replied, still not able to type really fast on her phone. It bothered her a bit, how everyone seemed to be so attached to their phones. She rarely even used her phone. She wasn't really busy, either. She just wanted to walk around by herself for a while. As she walked down the street, she saw a man carrying a large stack of boxes trip over, dropping all that he was carrying. Though it occurred to her that she should help him up, she instead found herself giggling. She couldn't help it. It was like some planned gag out of a comedy movie, and it was funny. People always thought that she was really mean when she laughed at people, but she didn't care. She just thought that people should get a sense of humor already. As she passed by the man while he gathered up his boxes again, she saw that the big screen T.V. on the side of a building was playing the same news story that it had always been playing. It was the story on the strange disease going around. She decided that it would just end up being just like swine flu. She didn't really care. She wasn't around anyone who was sick, anyway. So, she wasn't really worried about getting sick. They were saying how this disease was some sort of advanced form of rabies as she passed by the building. As soon as they said that, she pictured some sort of rabid squirrel in her head, and ended up laughing again. She got a few looks from the people around her, but ignored them. People always looked at her funny anyway. She continued her walk, glancing in through shop windows every now and then. She saw some people driving out of town. A lot, actually. They all had their belongings piled high in their trunks, getting away from the town where the new disease was supposedly going to hit.

"Pfft. Idiots," Riley shook her head as she saw a few more speeding by down the road. There was hardly anyone left. Just those like herself who either didn't believe in the disease at all or couldn't leave. She walked past some stores that were all boarded up, either gone out of business or running away from the dreaded "epidemic". It was all just a bunch of adults trying to get people worked up over stuff in Riley's eyes. As she passed by the hospital, she noticed a large group of people near the entrance, and decided to go over and see what was happening.

"Alright, alright, just calm down," a doctor near the door was calling out to the crowd. "We can get you all checked in a short while, but we're short on staff right now, so you'll have to be patient." The crowd broke out into murmurings and worried cries, and Riley rolled her eyes. It was another one of those panicking groups. But just as she was about to walk away, she heard something strange. Coming from somewhere in the distance was a very odd noise. Some sort of a mixture of growling and howling.

"Wild dogs?" she said to herself. Wild dogs had run through the run down town a couple of times. They had been absolutely crazy, foaming from the mouth and attacking anything that moved. The police had to take them out. Maybe they were affected by the same "disease" that was freaking everyone out so much. The noise came again, this time seeming a bit closer. If wild dogs really were going to come running through again, she didn't want to be outside…

"People, people, calm down!" the doctor shouted as the crowd began to descend into chaos. "We can let you in, but only for a short while, alright? Stay in the waiting area." There was suddenly a surge of people going inside, and Riley was sucked along with the crowd as they all tried to squeeze through the door into the hospital. The doctor was knocked around a bit, to his annoyance. As Riley reached the door, she tried to leave, but the doctor took her arm.

"It's not safe out there," he told her. "Something bad's coming."

"That's why I want to get home," Riley replied, trying to leave again. He stopped her once again, gently pushing her inside and closing the doors.

"Just stay here. You can call your parents from the waiting room." He looked the glass sliding doors so that they would have to be opened manually, and by a key. Then, he jogged off down a hallway deeper into the hospital.

"Call my parents. Yeah, right," Riley chuckled to herself. She was a bit irritated by how crowded it was inside the waiting room when she came in. And it was so loud. People were shouting, babies were wailing, and there was general disorder inside the small space. Not fun. Riley saw that there were no chairs left, and stood a bit grumpily by the door. She didn't want to be there. She could hear the weird howling noise outside again, and it was coming steadily closer, and closer, and closer…She glanced at the door once. There was nothing there yet. But she told herself that the next thing she knew, there would be a bunch of insane dogs scratching on the glass. There was no way that they could get in, though. She wondered what her parents were doing about this. They were probably holed up in the basement, like the one time that they thought that there was going to be a tornado. There hadn't been a tornado. It had all been jumping to conclusions. Just like this was. Riley heard a thump against the window. So, the dogs had arrived. She could see that some of the people facing diagonally out the door of the waiting room, who were able to see the door, were screaming. Screaming like they just saw a monster or something. She laughed quietly, then out loud. They were such idiots.

"Geez. It's just dogs," she shook her head. She could hear more thumping. Scratching. Banging. And it was beginning to sound less and less like dogs. And suddenly, it was a whole chorus of growling, yowling, scraping, banging, and Riley was thinking that this couldn't possibly a dog. Could that whole thing about an advanced form of rabies be true? No…no, it couldn't be. Riley willed herself not to turn around to look as the people in the waiting room continued to panic.

_Don't look, just don't look,_ she thought. _It's just my imagination playing tricks on me._ They noises outside became more intense. And that growling DID NOT sound like a dog. Neither did any of the other noises, but Riley kept on telling herself, "It's just a dog, it's just a dog, it's just a dog…" But finally, after about fifteen more seconds of that, she couldn't take it anymore. She sighed, then turned around. And she was suddenly frozen in place. Those were not dogs at the door. They were people. Their skin gray, their eyes blank, and their mouths and hands dripping with blood. Their clothes were ripped, bloodstained, and altogether nearly destroyed. And these people had a true blood lust in their eyes.

"Rabid people?" she said in a surprised squeak, backing up a step and bumping into someone. "Rabies my ass! These things look more like zombies!" There was suddenly a shattering of glass. They had broken through a small portion of the door. Another. They were coming through the window at the other side of the waiting room. The people were screaming as these new creatures crawled into the room, ripping and tearing through anyone that stood in their way. Riley could see that they were about to break through the door. She suddenly wasn't frozen anymore. Blood pumped down her legs in one sheer blast of adrenaline, and she was running down the hall deeper into the hospital. She heard the door shatter behind her as she turned a corner, but didn't look back. She couldn't look back. She probably would have frozen up again. But as she ran, she could hear the crazy growling sound ahead of her, too, echoing down the hallway. She was panicking inside her head, even though she told herself to remain calm. It was only the really beautiful girls that got killed off in zombie movies. She never considered herself to be very pretty, so she was attempting to inform herself that she had nothing to worry about, but she found her own reasoning to be very bad. This wasn't a movie. Her second line of defense: She pinched herself. Was this a dream? Some sort of super bad karma nightmare for running away from home? No, it wasn't a dream she was still there in the hospital. She could hear uneven footsteps coming down the hallway, and she did all she could think of: She ran into the nearest room, closing the door behind her with a slam. She was breathing hard, dripping with sweat, some of her brown bangs falling into her face. She brushed them away, scanning the room. Right in front of her, with his back to her, was the doctor that she had seen earlier.

"Oh, doctor, you're okay!" she exclaimed in relief. "I can't believe it! You know how they said that this was some sort of rabies? Well, these guys are like zombies, and…" Riley trailed off. He wasn't turning around. "…doctor?" As he turned around, his footing uneven, Riley saw his sheer white eyes, and knew that she was about to die. She could feel it. He was running right at her. She had to do something. Her pulse was racing, as was her brain: _oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_ As he charged her, she got the door open and tried to run, but it was too late for that. She ran around to the other side of the room, but her back was to the wall now. He was approaching again. An insane lust for blood was burning in his eyes. As Riley backed up, her foot hit something. She looked down for a moment, and saw one of those zombies at her feet. Dead. Was this what had changed the doctor over…? He was coming closer. She tried to think of what to do. There was nothing…nothing…wait. She grasped around on the wall behind her, finding the case for a fire extinguisher. She grabbed the handle, fumbling it with her hands, then pulling it open. He was coming…he was almost there! She seized the fire extinguisher, and almost dropped it. It was so heavy! She struggled to pick it up again, her hands slick with sweat, but finally managed to grab it. She swung it out at the now infected doctor with a sudden burst of strength that came to her out of pure fear. It hit it's mark, but flew out of her hands, falling with a clank onto the other side of the room. As the man reeled back, blood flying out of the area she had hit him, she decided that she had to get him out of there. Then, she could lock the door. She ran forward, pushing on both of his shoulders, making him back up out of the room. But just as she got him through the door, she felt a sharp pain in her lower arm, a searing, burning sensation that flew up her arm and into her body like an arrow from out of nowhere.

"You bit me!" she screamed, even though she knew that he would know. She tried to dislodge him from her arm, then finally swung her leg out as she had learned in her "self defense for young girls" class. He took a big hit in the stomach, stumbling out into the hallway. Riley grabbed the door handle, slamming the door shut. It looks like self defense for use against rapists works against zombies, too. She backed up into the room after locking the door, feeling hot tears run down her face out of the pain in her arm, and her intense fear of the situation. Her arm hurt like hell, she was stuck in a zombie infested hospital, everyone else was probably dead, and she didn't know what the hell to do. The pain from her arm was intensifying, and her vision was blurring.

"Great, I'm going to be a freaking rabid zombie now!" she screamed, pain, fear, and anger all marking her voice. Her vision blurred in, and out, in and out. She found herself curling up on the floor, clutching her arm. It hurt so much! It hurt, it hurt, it hurt…Her thoughts were slowing. She was confused. She felt herself slowly losing consciousness, and all she could think was, _it hurts…it really really hurts…_

Her eyes flew open suddenly. What light that could be seen from the high and small window on the wall was dark and luminous. Was it night time?

"I'm…" she whispered to herself quietly, "I'm…alive…? And I'm not a zombie…?" She tried to sit up, but felt slightly weak. But she kept at it, and eventually sat up. There was now a mirror shattered on the door. Had that happened while she was there? What had even happened? She couldn't remember…she couldn't remember anything.

"Where…where is this?" she mumbled to herself. Her whole mind was blank. She couldn't remember. She just couldn't remember. She sifted through her thoughts, only to realize that she couldn't even remember her own name. Everything was all fuzzy…

"What…what was it again?" she murmured. "Oh well, I have to get out of here…" She heaved herself up, taking a few tries to do it. She stumbled forward, catching herself on the door. She paused when she got there. "How do I work this again…?" She fumbled around with the handle for a bit, discovering something: It turned. How strange…She continued turning it until it stopped, then found that the part of the wall in front of her actually opened. She went out into the hallway, trying to get the hang of moving around. She was getting a little bit better at it, but still tripped every now and then. As she went down the hallway, she found herself among a desolate scene. Dead bodies were lying everywhere. Oddly, the bloody smell coming off of them didn't seem so bad. But suddenly, she saw something move. She felt a sort of growl rising in her throat, but tried to make it go back down. Why was she growling? There was a man. A man was moving towards the shattered glass that lay around the entrance. He was looking straight at her. With true fear in his eyes. Taunter couldn't help but let out a loud laugh. He was scared of her?

"What? Are you scared of me?" she continued laughing. This guy was so stupid…

"S-Stop it!" the man stuttered. "All of you…you're all just taunting me! Stop taunting me like that!" The man took a step back. And suddenly, she felt herself running at him, suddenly able to move, ripping, tearing, biting, she wanted his blood…It was all in one motion, and suddenly, the man lay dead before her. As her normal thoughts took back over, she looked down at him in shock, then back at her bloodied hands, wiping blood away from her mouth.

"What…the frick?" she backed away. She looked around feverishly, finally finding a mirror. She saw her own reflection. Brown hair was partially covering up glowing gray slate eyes. Her skin was a pale gray, and her clothes were ripped, her worn out gray hoodie torn where she just noticed that she had a gaping wound. She came a step closer, looking at herself in the floor length mirror that lay inside the office. Dropping to her knees, she felt a small laugh escape her throat.

"Well…damn," she said to herself. "And here I thought that I was okay. Looks like karma really is out to get me after all." And with that, she let out another laugh, and another, and went into a fit of wild laughter, unable to stop, even as tears began to flow down her face. But who was she? Who? She remembered what the man had said. He had said, "Stop taunting me." That's it. That's who she was…Taunter. That was who she was now. Taunter, the zombie. That was who she was. And that was all she would ever be.

…...

Sooo, what do you guys think? Good? Bad? Stupid? XD I hope it's good. :P Anyway, not only will I be doing chapters for everyone's OCs, but I'm also going to be doing chapters for Hunter, Smoker, Boomer, Tank, and Witch. If you're reading this, vote for who you want the next chapter to be about in your review! Also, tell me what you think of this chapter! ^^ Thanks for your support guys, as always. :D


	2. Smoker

Well, as you can see by the chapter title, the most people voted for…Smoker! *clap clap clap* Sooo, here is his origin story! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Left 4 Dead 2 in any way, shape, or form! I only own my OCs and the plot of the fanfic.

…...

It was lunch break, and Alex was already out of cigarettes. He must have used them all up already, because as he reached into the pack now, he didn't feel any, and upon looking in, he saw that it was empty. He tossed it over towards a trashcan, not really paying attention to whether it went in or not. Alex looked around, brushing some of his dark blonde hair out of his face. All of the other students were milling around, sticking in their own cliques and not talking to anyone else. Just the usual. As for Alex, both of his buddies were nowhere to be found at the moment, which is what led him to be leaning against a lamppost by himself. Matt was probably studying, and Craig was most likely jumping around the roofs like an idiot again. Alex didn't know why Craig even did Parkour. Someday he was going to break his neck. Feeling strange from the lack of cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Alex opened up his backpack and dug through it, hoping to find another pack. After a minute or so, his hand finally met a cigarette pack among the variable paraphernalia that his bag contained. A bag of chips here, a crumpled up piece of unfinished homework there, and right at the very bottom, a cigarette pack, which he pulled out in relief. He at least had one left. He pulled out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, then took his lighter out of his pocket, lighting the tip. He loved his lighter. It was so convenient. Not only that, but it was his favorite color: dark green. He always kept it right inside his pocket, in case he needed it for something. Like cigarettes. He couldn't really remember when or why he had started smoking, but he had made a habit out of it. He didn't feel addicted; it was sort of a more normal thing for him. Like getting dressed or brushing your hair. Just a normal routine. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, exhaling a small cloud of smoke, and looking back over at the rest of the plaza. The bell had just rang inside the high school building, and the teens were pouring out in droves. Alex still couldn't figure why the school board had put the high school and the college right next to each other. To save money on property lots, maybe? Alex wasn't expecting Craig to come out with the rest of the high school kids. As Alex had thought before, he was probably jumping around on the roofs. He skipped class a lot, only just barely passing. He always told the teachers that he had been sick, when really he had probably been running on the roof right above their heads. Alex himself was in college. He had started a little late; taken and extra year, too. He still didn't know what he wanted to do for a career. Not like Matt. Matt wanted to be some kind of doctor or something. Alex never really understood what he was talking about when he used big medical terms from his classes, anyway. Alex took another drag on his cigarette as he saw a group of students coming out of the college building. That was Matt's class. And sure enough, Matt came outside, almost falling down the stairs in his haste.

"Hey, Matt," Alex called to him as he passed by. "What's your hurry?"

"Me and the guys are going out to dinner before we study together!" Matt told him, hardly even turning around. "Sorry, I gotta go! Talk to you later!"

"Right," Alex said slowly, his hopes of having at least someone to talk to burning out, just like the ash on the end of his cigarette, which he tapped off. Matt was running to his car. Matt's car was kind of run down. A family possession. His parents hardly went out anymore. They worked from home, so they let Matt use the car. The car was parked right next to Alex's mode of transport: a 1948 Vincent motorcycle. Some people called it old. Alex called it a diamond in the rough. His dad had given it to him, thinking that it wouldn't work very well anymore. Alex had tinkered with it for a while, and now it worked perfectly. He loved that motorcycle. The black and gold paint, the sound of it starting up…everything, literally. Now, as he watched the students milling around in the plaza once more, he wondered again when Craig was going to show up. He was getting bored. Suddenly, a teacher walked out of one of the doors. She was carrying a megaphone, and Alex wondered exactly why she would need one.

"Attention, students!" the teacher called. "We've recently gotten some more information about the Green Flu!" The Green Flu again. Alex sighed. That was all they ever talked about. He wasn't sure what to think of it. The American people had gotten through all the other deadly diseases that they were faced with. They could get through this one, right?

"The disease seems to have affected some people from the other side of town," the teacher continued, looking concerned. "They're coming this way, and could infect all of you. As such, we're putting everyone here under lockdown!"

"What?" Alex said in annoyance. He had been planning on doing something that afternoon. Well, not really. He just didn't want to be stuck in school all night.

"All students will come inside immediately," the teacher said, a few other educators coming out and herding the students inside. Alex turned and watched as Matt turned the corner on the street, moving steadily away from the school.

"Lucky asshole," Alex muttered out of slight jealousy as he began heading towards the school doors.

"You'll have to put that out," a teacher said, coming up to him and indicating his cigarette. Alex shrugged, and dropped the cigarette to the paved ground, rubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. It had almost been done anyway. And he could always light another inside. He followed the rest of the crowd of students into the doors to the college building, and all of them were brought into the auditorium. It sort of reminded him of all the crisis drills they had. The code red drill, for instance, when a dangerous person was supposedly inside the building. They would all gather inside the auditorium, locking the door and turning out the lights, being totally silent (except for the one time when for some reason everyone had been cracking up). But now, all the lights were on, and everyone was talking. Murmurs flew through the room almost as fast as rumors did through the hallways. Alex reached into his pocket, finding another cigarette and his lighter. He placed the cigarette into his mouth, lighting it just as he had done to the previous one. It was such a common routine to him that he didn't even have to think about it anymore. Placing the lighter back into his pocket, he glanced around the room a bit. Everyone was there. But they were still in their cliques, of course. The jocks over to the left. Popular girls hanging nearby them. Goths off in the corner. Skater boys near the front of the right side of the room. Stereotypes were just about as common as tests in this place. Alex himself was part of a sort of undefined group. He, Matt, and Craig weren't really considered that cool. Craig was cool for about a day after he beat a jock in a fight. Then he was uncool again after he lost to the same guy in the rematch. And so, they _were_ essentially the "undefined group". They weren't considered cool, but not grouped together with any of the "uncool" cliques. A teacher was climbing the stairs to the stage. Alex recognized this one. It was Mr. Steele, his physics teacher.

"Alright, students, listen up," Mr. Steele called out into the room, his voice echoing in the space. "This virus called the Green Flu is dangerous. Apparently it's an advanced form of rabies that we have no way to counter at this time. That's why you're all in here. We're trying to keep you all clean. We're going to all stay here as long as we have to." There was a general chorus of groans of disapproval from the students, but he continued. "As such, there are a few ways that we've figured for you to pass the time. We're going to-" Mr. Steele was cut off by the fire alarm. Was this another fire drill? Now?

"There has been a fire emergency reported in the building. Please leave the building by the nearest exit. Do not use the elevator," the loudspeaker blared out. "There has been a fire emergency reported in the building. Please leave the building. Do not use the elevators. There has been a-" It continued on and on, and Alex did his best to ignore it. It was probably just a fire drill. Or some asshole had pulled the fire alarm, thinking he was funny. But suddenly, Alex saw something. As one of the teachers came into the auditorium, looking disheveled and oddly freaked out, smoke curled into the door after him. Alex was wondering if he was seeing things. Maybe it was really the smoke from his cigarette. Why in the hell would they be staying in the auditorium if there was a fire? The teacher said something quietly to Mr. Steele, who suddenly got a grave look on his face. What was happening? Alex couldn't exactly go up and ask. The entirety of the student body besides him was in total panic mode. Girls were screaming and crying, guys were looking around, wondering what to do, and Alex was getting bustled around so much that his cigarette nearly popped right out of his mouth.

"Kids, we're evacuating into other rooms of the college," Mr. Steele called over the chaos. "Now, if you'll go in an orderly fashion-" His request went unheard. All of the students pushed for the door, and Alex was knocked right over as a group of boys shoved him out of the way. He tried to get up, but was pushed down again. Afraid that he would get utterly trampled, he covered up his head with his arms, careful not to burn himself on his cigarette, or worse yet (in his opinion) lose it. But smoke was filling up his mouth and flying up his nose all of sudden. He had forgotten in that moment the proper technique, and had to spit out the cigarette, coughing up a storm.

"God damn!" he grumbled, managing to stand up. Nearly all of the students were gone now.

"Alex, get going," Mr. Steele called. Alex didn't say anything, but left through the door that all the other students had gone through. He might as well. He followed the now thin trickling of students down the hall. The classrooms were overflowing. Were these people idiots? They would just burn to death if they stayed in there…

"Alex, get into one of the rooms," Mr. Steele was bringing up the rear.

"But it's a fire," Alex said, thinking that the teachers would have known better. "Aren't we supposed to get outside?"

"The infected people are inside the school. The fire is being dealt with. Now get inside." Alex frowned, annoyed. He pushed his way into one of the rooms, but stayed near the door in case they needed to go. He reached his hand into his pocket, and to his relief, his cigarettes and lighter hadn't fallen out in the rush of students that had nearly stomped all over him. He needed something to calm him down a bit, so he took a cigarette and lit it, taking in a deep drag. That was a little better. He exhaled some smoke, much to the displeasure of the others around him.

"Do you have to smoke that in here?" one girl asked, covering her nose and mouth with a hand.

"Yeah, I do," Alex replied with a slight nod.

"Dude, put it out," a boy near him demanded.

"No, I don't think I will."

"I'm serious. Put it out, now."

"Well, I'm serious when I say that-" Alex stopped when a strange noise echoed into the hallway. It was some sort of growl. Almost like an animal. But it sounded oddly human. The whole room had fallen silent.

"…what was that?" finally came a question from one of the girls in the middle of the room.

"I'm getting out of here," Alex said, opening the door and going out into the hallway.

"Fine, you would just take up extra space anyway!" a boy shouted after him as he left, slamming the door closed. The hallway was now eerily silent. Not a student was to be seen, nor a teacher. Papers were scattered in the hallway, and a few book bags had been left abandoned. Alex realized that his backpack was still outside, and was about to go get it when he heard the growl again. It was coming from behind him. He paused, then slowly turned around. It was a person standing there. But their skin looked like ash. Just like the ash that fell off of the end of his cigarette while he looked over in slight shock. Their eyes were sheer white, and blood was dripping from their lips. This person had a hungry look in their eyes.

"H-Hey…come on," Alex said, backing up a step. "I know that I'm right here and all…but there are plenty of jerks for you to eat right in there." Alex pointed slightly towards the door he had just come out of. The bloodied person didn't take their eyes off him. And suddenly, he saw more coming around the corner down the hall. They were running. Screaming. Growling.

"Shit!" Alex turned to run, heading down the hallway in the opposite direction. A thin film of smoke was in the air. He figured that he must be getting closer to the fire, but he could hear pounding footsteps right behind him. He didn't dare look back, for fear of slowing down even a little bit. As he ran, the smoke got thicker and thicker. He couldn't see. He held out a hand to try to find a wall, and followed the slick tile along, trying to find a door. He ran into a room, slamming the door behind him, only to see the other side of the room engulfed in flames. Had these weird people who had broke in started the fire? Suddenly, out of nowhere, another one came at him. It ran from the corner, a feral growl escaping its throat. Alex managed to dodge out of the way, but wasn't expecting another one to come up behind him. He felt teeth dig down into his shoulder, and used his elbow to hit away whatever was behind him. He could feel blood running down his back and arm now, but had other things to deal with. The one in front of him, he ran at with what he hoped was a threatening sort of battle cry, maybe he could scare it off. But in the end, he had to grab it by the neck, trying to stop it from attacking him. They struggled back and forth, then Alex summoned up all the strength he could, pushing it into the flames on the walls, slowly spreading across the floor. A flaming piece of wood fell from the ceiling with a crash, splintering and crackling in the flames. One of those things along the ceiling…what were they called again? No matter, he had other problems. The one that had bit him was running at him again. Alex stood right in front of the fire, and just before the thing reached him, he jumped out of the way, tripping and landing on the floor as it ran right into the fire. He could hear them both screaming out in pain, and covered his ears until they ceased. He stood up, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, only to see that the wood that had fallen from the ceiling had barred the door.

"Well, shit!" he shouted, knowing that the room had no other entrance. The heat from the fire was intense, and he was sweating, the salty liquid rolling into his wound, making it sting like crazy. He put a hand to his shoulder. Maybe this wasn't real. Maybe it was all just a dream or something. But as he pulled his hand away, it was covered in the thick red substance. Blood. This was blood. This was real. The smoke in the room was thick, and Alex pulled his shirt collar up over his mouth and nose, as he had seen in the movies. It wasn't working. The smoke still filled up his lungs, making him cough. His lungs screamed out for air, but were only filled up with the smoke floating about the room. He coughed, again and again. He felt like he would cough up a lung if this continued. The coughing was wracking, making his whole body shake. The whole room felt like an oven, he couldn't breathe, his shoulder hurt, _what do I do…? What do I DO? _Alex felt the flesh around his wound pulse. Was he rabid now? He was starting to feel weaker, nearly falling over when he went into another coughing fit. In the corner, he could see the case where a fire extinguisher lay. Every room had one. He ran over to it, nearly tripping. He tried to pull the case open, but had to remove his hands from his mouth, making him cough even worse. He finally got it open, but he didn't know how to use the extinguisher itself. Attempting to read the instructions on the side, his eyes watering, he went back out into the room. Finally, he pushed down on the lever, and white foam came spurting out at the fire. He continued to spray until it was extinguished completely, repeating it with every blaze in the room. But the smoke was still thick in the air once the fire was gone. He made his way over to a window, his limbs feeling like jelly, and shoved it open. He felt a cool breeze on his face just before he fell to the ground. He continued to cough, unable to breathe at all, his vision swimming. His left eye somehow closed without him doing anything, and his shoulder wound burned like someone had just poured a whole salt shaker inside it. Even worse than that. As if the fire that had once been in the room was now housed in his shoulder. He had no strength left. Everything was fading. His breath wasn't coming, and he lost all feeling in his body, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as his eyes rolled back slightly and he passed out. Everything went black.

Alex gasped when he woke up, wheezing and trying to fill his lungs with as much oxygen as he could. He realized one thing: He was alive. He realized another: He was still lying on the floor in the singed room. Had nobody found him? What had happened to everyone else? Alex realized that he was only looking out of his right eye, and tried to open his left one. But it still saw only black. He wondered why, bringing a hand up to feel it. His right eye widened in shock. His left eye was covered in huge bumps. Bulbous growths coming out of his face had completely buried his left eye.

"What the hell!" he shouted, realizing that his tongue was hanging out of his mouth, only to find to his horror that it had grown at least a foot in length. "What the fucking hell!" He could hardly talk with his tongue out of his mouth like that, but he couldn't get the whole thing back in. This was like some sort of nightmare. The third thing he realized: there was still smoke around him, and he was suddenly racked once more by a painful coughing fit. But this smoke wasn't gray. It had a greenish tinge to it. He struggled to his feet, feeling awkward with his tongue swinging around like a really long pendant. He looked around feverishly. What the hell had happened? He couldn't remember anything…The wood in front of the door had nearly been reduced to ash, and he pushed the remains out of the way, finding an unsavory flavor when his tongue accidentally dragged along the pile of ash on the floor. He opened the door with some difficulty, then went out into the hallway. He tried a second time to try to pull his tongue back into his mouth, without much success. He decided that he would just let it hang for now. As for the growths on his face…well, he would figure that out later. He went down the hallway, somehow finding the place familiar while unfamiliar at the same time. He stumbled into a hallway strewn with paper and a few bags, seeing blood spattered around. A hand was lying on the floor, sticking out of a doorway, the remains of a shattered door nearby. Alex moved forward slowly, gazing into the dark room. The floor was so littered with bodies that he couldn't even see the linoleum. Blood was still flowing from some of them. Looks of pure horror were plastered on all of their faces, though some of their faces had been practically ripped off. Alex saw no life among them, and strangely, didn't feel bad. He simply acknowledged it. He didn't know who these people were, anyway. Though, as he wandered the halls, eventually finding an exit and going outside, he found that there were two people whose images were burned into his mind. One teen, wearing a dark hoodie, running along the rooftops of a building while shouting something down to him; a young adult, a bit stout, wearing a sweater and pointing to a picture in a book. Who…who were they? Alex wandered until he found the door, going outside. He had been coughing the whole time, but hardly noticed it. Then, he noticed something in his pocket. Something was there. As he reached in and took out the pack of cigarettes, a single memory returned to him: He knew how to use these things. Flawlessly, as if nothing had ever happened, he lit one and stuck it into his mouth in the area not ravaged by the growths on the left side of his face. He immediately felt better, though he was still coughing every now and then. Smoke continued to float around him, and he didn't have any idea where it was coming from. Suddenly, he heard a scream. He turned to see two women and a man looking straight at him. He stared at them, confused. Why was that one woman screaming?

"Smoker!" the man exclaimed. "Run!" Were people getting mad at him for smoking? Or for that matter, having a cloud of smoke around him? Was that his name now?

"That's not my name…" he said as the three people ran. "It's…" He paused. He didn't know. He couldn't remember. "…What was it again?" Maybe the three people had been right. Was Smoker his name? His parents must have been lousy at naming kids, he thought. He looked around a bit. What was he supposed to do now? He wandered into town, surprised at the amount of destruction scattered around. What had happened? Seriously, what went on? He continued walking, suddenly feeling tired. He saw a mattress truck, tipped over. Mattresses had fallen out of it, into an alley. That would be the perfect place to sleep for a while…that was all he wanted to do. Sleep. He went over to the mattress eagerly, only to find someone else there already. But he could tell that they were like him from their ashen skin. This one was wearing a dark hoodie. Somewhat familiar…The being in front of him looked up, letting out a growl. Smoker backed up, not wanting to get into a fight. He didn't even know how he _would_ fight, with his tongue swinging everywhere.

"Who are you?" the other boy asked after a tense moment. Smoker paused. Maybe they could get along, if he tried. After all, this was all he had to try for, now.

"…call me Smoker."

…...

Well, did you like it? :D As per request by several people, next chapter will be on… *drum roll* …Hunter! So, since it's already going like this, I'm gonna go ahead and get Hunter, Boomer, Tank, and Witch over with first. XD Then, I'll do the rest of the OCs. For those of you with OCs who haven't told me about their past yet, start thinking about doing it! :3 And as always, thanks for your support and comments, guys! :D


	3. Hunter

Well, Hunter got tired of waiting for me to write this and post it, so here it is! Lol sorry it took a while. I got so busy writing the main story that I nearly forgot about this one! XD Hope you like it, as I usually do. :D

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Left 4 Dead 2 in any way, shape, or form! I only own my OCs and the plot of the fanfic.

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Craig had always considered himself practically invincible. Heck, he could jump from roof to roof without so much as a scratch. His balance was impeccable, he could make split second decisions, and he was fast. Faster than most people he knew, at least. But the one thing he thought about while running along the roofs, high above the rest of society, was the pure rush of it all. The wind rushing past, blowing his hair back and making his eyes sting, adrenaline pumping through his veins. That, and the fact that no one else could do it. It was that fact that kept him afloat in high school life. He had one thing to hold onto that the jocks and preps couldn't degrade him about. He didn't exactly hang out with the popular crowd, nor did he want to be involved with them. His two best friends were a generous bookworm and a guy who didn't have any idea what he was going to do with himself in the future, and neither of them had wanted anything to do with the "in" crowd, either. They were able to hang out without worrying about any preset rules or regulations, any sort of unwritten code that needed to be followed. They could come to school on any day and feel fine about it. It was on one such day that Craig was now doing what he always did for fun: Parkour. For those who didn't know what that was, it was the sport of jumping from roof to roof, running up above the world and daring to do what most people would not. Alex kept on telling him that one day he was going to end up breaking his neck, but Craig didn't pay him any mind. Right at that moment, it was the early afternoon. Lunch break was about to start. It had already started for the college students, who went to school in the building right next to the high school. As Craig came to a stop on top of one of the high school buildings, he could see Alex standing by himself in the plaza, smoking of course. That was just sort of his thing. But where was Matt? Probably off in the library or something. Craig wondered whether he should go down and talk to him. But if he went down from this way, he knew he would get caught by a teacher, and the last time that that had happened, he had gotten in major trouble. It had been a huge drag. So, he would go down the back way. He turned, running and gathering up speed, then jumped to the next building's roof. All of these buildings were close together, so it was easy. Just as his feet touched down onto the next roof, he began running again. He didn't want to slow down. It was a lot more fun if you went fast, after all. He kept on going, from roof to roof, even running across the thin balance beam of the top bar of a chain link fence, not slowing down. He finally got to a low enough place to jump down, landing on the lid of a dumpster, then jumped again, landing on the ground. But just as he did so, he could hear a loudspeaker. Someone was talking about that weird disease again. Then, they said something about a lock down. No way was he going to go up to the plaza now. He turned, walking from the back of the school out onto the road. A few minutes later, when he was about to turn the corner, he heard the school's fire alarm go off. What was going on over there? Well, he didn't want to find out, and continued walking. He tried to remember what Matt had said when the three of them had been talking about the Green Flu, or whatever it was called. Matt was majoring in some sort of medical class, so he knew practically everything about it that had been revealed to them by then. Craig couldn't remember much of what Matt had told them, only that the disease apparently made people very dangerous. But "dangerous" seemed a bit vague. It probably just meant that they were dangerous because they could infect others. It was a contagious disease, but only if exposed to an open wound, apparently. Craig knew that he had nothing to worry about there. Or at least, that's what he wanted to believe. He didn't get hurt…most of the time. He heard glass shattering, and paused for a moment. It was coming back from the direction of the school. More and more of the shattering sound echoed through the empty streets. Wait, why were the streets empty? Where had everyone gone? From over at the high school and college buildings, Craig could hear some sort of howling behind the cacophony of glass breaking. But not just one howl, a lot. And that definitely wasn't a coyote or anything. It sounded more like a demented person growling at something, just really loud. Like they were all doing it in unison. Who was "they" anyway? Craig quickened his pace, not wanting to get caught up in any sort of riot or anything. Every now and then there was a riot or two, usually done by the kids who used drugs. They always ended up breaking stuff. He guessed that they had chosen to mess up the school this time. And judging by the fire alarm still going off, they had decided to mess it up during a fire drill. Oh, the teachers were going to _love_ that. But still, the rioters might come over in the direction that Craig was walking, so he decided to get up on the roofs while he still could. He walked over to a building with a fire escape, and climbed up to the roof. He ran towards the edge, then leaped over to the next roof, the top of a building without a fire escape. He was sure to remained unbothered up there. He paused for a second, trying to think of what to do. That was the problem. There's nothing to do while sitting up on a roof all day, unable to go anywhere else. Even though he could still hear some shattering of glass and screaming back towards the direction of the school grounds, the sun burning overhead was making him sleepy. And he knew that as long as he was on the roof he would be fine. He lay down, folding his arms behind his head for a pillow, and scooting over to a place where the sun wouldn't totally blind him. Once he was comfortable, he tried to relax, though the sounds of chaos in the background weren't really helping. He told himself that it would be over soon, so he wouldn't have to worry. And soon enough, despite all of the distractions, he was soon fast asleep on top of the roof, totally oblivious to the destruction that the town was about to meet.

…...

When Craig finally woke up, it was later in the afternoon. And strangely, the sounds of chaos had quieted. But so had everything else. He listened as he sat up, but he didn't hear anything. No people. No cars. Nothing. He stood up and stretched, looking around the street below. It was empty, with a few cars laying abandoned, their doors ajar and their windows broken.

_Damn, _he thought in surprise. _Just what did I sleep through here?_ Craig had always known himself to be a heavy sleeper, but no _this _much so. He then remembered: The school. There had been a riot, and Alex had been there when it happened.

"I should call him and see what happened," Craig said to himself, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. He got Alex's number up on speed dial, then waited while the phone on the other end rang.

"Hey, this is Alex," the answering machine picked up once it had rung about five times, "I can't get on the phone right now, but leave a message, 'kay? I'll get back to you." The phone beeped, and Craig knew that if he was going to leave a message, he should start talking.

"Hey, Alex, it's Craig," he started. "What happened down at the school? Did the rioters show up again? Call me back and tell me about it when you can. Bye." Craig pressed the end button, wondering just why Alex hadn't answered his phone. Was Alex even okay? People got hurt at riots, after all…Craig got a different number up on speed dial and waited while it rang, now feeling a bit uneasy. But this time, someone picked up.

"H-Hello…?" came the shaky reply.

"Oh, hey, Matt," Craig said, happy that Matt had picked up. Maybe Alex just had his phone off, as usual. "Do you know what happened down at the school?"

"N-No, I'm not at the school…"

"Hey, are you okay? You sound kinda weird."

"Craig, did you get bitten?"

"Bitten? What are you talking about?" Craig was confused now. "Bitten by what? A dog or something?"

"Craig, you have to get out of town. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else!" Suddenly, Matt cut off, and there were retching noises on the other end of the line.

"Dude, are you okay?" Craig asked, feeling worried again. "Are you throwing up or something?"

"Go, Craig, you have to-" another cut off, and another retching noise. Then, the line went dead. Craig pulled the phone away from his ear and closed it, feeling at least a bit freaked out now. He put his phone away, looking around down on the street again. Seriously, what had he missed while he was asleep? Obviously, something really bad had happened. And he had somehow avoided it by being on the roof. But now, he was going to follow Matt's advice. He was getting out of town. He could take care of himself, or at least, he was pretty sure he could. He decided to take some inventory in his pockets before he went. He had his cell phone, a chocolate bar, which was probably melted by now anyway, a five dollar bill, and an old movie ticket that he had used months ago. After deciding that he would definitely have to stop by the food store before he left, he walked over to the edge of the roof, and climbed down the fire escape. It really was too quiet. All he could hear was his own footsteps and breathing, along with his quick thoughts as he tried to come up with what he should do. He walked down the street, weaving in between the abandoned cars, on his way to the food store. But suddenly, he heard a noise, and stopped. He glanced into a nearby alleyway, hearing some sort of noise, though he couldn't really describe what it was. That's when he saw the other figure standing there in the shadows. He was a bit relieved to have finally found another person, and was about to call out to them when he noticed something. Whoever was in the alley was chewing on something. They were chewing on, and most likely eating, a human arm. Craig backed up a few steps in shock and disgust, then took off down the road, not wanting to be anywhere near that psycho. After going a fair ways, he stopped to catch his breath.

"Geez…" he said, shaking his head and sitting down onto one of the cars along the road. But just as he plopped down onto it, the alarm went off, and he stood up quickly. "Oh, come on!" That was when he heard it again. That collective howling growl that he had heard from the direction of the school. But now, he could hear it coming closer. "Oh, crap." He looked around quickly, then ran into the open doorway of one of the shops along the side of the road. He sat down in a shadowy corner, pulling up the hood of his dark hoodie to try to blend into the darkness more. He could hide there for the time being. Hide from whatever was making that growling noise. Because whatever it was, it couldn't be good. He could hear the noise getting closer, and now he could hear pounding footsteps against the pavement. It sounded like a whole horde of people. And then, from the corner and through the open door, he saw the source of the growl. It was a huge group of people, all of them running and snarling like lunatics, and all of them splattered with blood. Their skin was pale and gray, as if they had just been rolling around in a pile of ash. And though Craig couldn't see them very clearly from where he was, he caught a glimpse of a set of eyes or two: sheer white.

"What the…?" he whispered to himself. "No way. Zombies? Really?" Then, he saw some of them approaching the door of the shop he was in. They were coming inside. He pulled back into the corner as far as he could, not wanting to get turned into zombie food. But he knew that they would find him in that corner eventually. He had to _move_. As soon as the figures that had wandered into the store turned the other way, he stood up and made a run for the door, but tripped over a loose wire on his way. He managed not to fall over, but pulled the thing that was attached to the wire, a coffee maker, off the table, and it fell to the floor with a bang. His element of stealth was gone, and now, he was making a mad dash for the fire escape across the street. He heard growls and snarls behind him as he reached the alley, almost tripping over the curb, and grabbed the ladder that led up to the fire escape. He started to climb up, but one of the morphed people below grabbed his leg, and he lost his grip, being pulled down to the ground. He landed with a thud right on his back, hitting his head, but looked past the pain and straight up at the group beginning to surround him. He kicked away the hand on his leg, and scrambled up, heading deeper into the alley now that the fire escape was cut off. He looked around the alley as he ran, searching for anything that he could use to defend himself. He found just the thing: an old rusty crowbar was lying against a wall. He picked it up, then faced the oncoming horde.

"Alright then, come and get it!" he shouted, brandishing the crowbar much like a sword. He quickly changed his mind, seeing that he wouldn't be able to take on that many at once, and turned and ran once again, though he still kept a tight grip on the crowbar.

_So, this is what Matt was talking about when he asked if I got bitten by something,_ he thought. _Did something bite him? And did Alex get bitten, too?_ As he ran, he could feel a stinging pain in his leg, but he had no clue why. Did he get hurt when that thing grabbed him. He didn't risk looking down for fear of slowing down or crashing into something. Then, as he turned another corner, he saw just what he was looking for: a fire escape. And there weren't any zombies near it. He made a jump for it when he was close enough, and climbed up with a speed that he didn't even know that he had in him. He scrambled up, smacking one zombie that tried to follow him up on the head with the crowbar. As soon as he got up to the roof, he knew that he had to get over to the next roof. But his leg really hurt! He glanced down, and was surprised to see blood staining the leg of his pants. Where had that come from? He started preparing himself to jump to the next roof, but then a thought occurred to him: What if his leg was too hurt to jump that far? He looked around again, noticing some wooden boards, apparently being used for a construction project. He could use one of those to get across. He could hear the growls of the creatures below as he ran over to the boards, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. Some of them must be coming up the fire escape. He grabbed one board, and tried to make it bridge the gap between the two buildings. It was too short, and fell down the gap, into the alleyway far below. He grabbed another board, this one longer, but accidentally dropped it down into the alley before he could test the length. He grabbed a third, and this one reached across. Without any hesitation, he ran across the board, the wood underneath his feet creaking and splintering, but it held. As soon as he reached the other roof, he examined the sides of the building he was on. There weren't any fire escapes. He could, however, see a few of the zombies coming up the fire escape that he had ascended, and kicked the board down into the alley before they could use it to cross. He sighed in relief, sitting down on the roof and placing the crowbar down at his side. He pulled up his pant leg, investigating his injury, and saw that there was a fair sized gash. Those zombies _did_ have claws, after all. This must have happened when that one zombie grabbed him. He tried to catch his breath, but was caught off guard when he heard a strange growl. This one was different from the others. He turned his head to look across at the roof he had come from. In front of all of the other zombies milling around on the roof, there was one in a hoodie, and it was crouching at the edge.

"Does it actually think that it can make the jump?" Craig said to himself, though he still stood up, gripping the crowbar. The zombie across from him let out a scream, and leaped forward. Not only did it make the distance, but it looked as if it would land directly on him. Craig, unable to dodge fast enough, swung out the crowbar, hitting the zombie away much like a baseball. It righted itself quickly, and looked as if it was going to jump him again, and Craig backed up a step or two, holding the crowbar so hard that his knuckles were turning white. The zombie jumped for Craig again, but Craig struck it down with the crowbar once again, and before it could get up, he ran to where it landed, hitting it again and again with the crowbar, desperate to kill it. After a few more strikes, Craig paused. The zombie wasn't moving anymore. He backed up a bit, still wary, but concluded that it must be dead by this point, after being hit over the head with a crowbar so many times. Craig winced, once again noticing the pain in his leg.

"I've gotta patch this up…" he said to himself. "I need a bandage or something." He thought about how in the movies, the guys always tore up their own clothes to make bandages, but he was wearing his absolute favorite hoodie! There was no way he was going to tear that up. That was when his eyes fell upon the zombie that he had killed. It had clothes. Clothes that were open and ready for being torn. He walked slowly over to the zombie, wondering if it was really just playing dead. He grabbed onto part of its hoodie, pulling and tugging.

"Geez, they make it look so easy in the movies!" he grumbled, trying his hardest to tear the thick fabric. It didn't quite work, so he decided to tear part of one of the pant legs on the zombie's pants off, since the pants were already frayed anyway. He managed to tear a strip off, and with some difficulty, managed to crudely bandage up the cut on his leg. He went back over to the center of the roof, sitting down with the crowbar. He messed around with the bloodstained fabric he had used to bandage his leg for a moment, then decided to try to remember everything that Matt had ever told him about the Green Flu.

_Alright, let's see…_ he thought. _The Green Flu is some sort of weird disease that's been flying around…it's mostly been affecting the…uh…east coast, right? And it apparently turns people into these weird zombie things…I know that Matt said it was rabies, but…this is definitely not rabies. _Craig felt like his leg was hurting more, but tried to ignore it. _Apparently, we're supposed to wait for government instructions or whatever…wait, how do people get it again? What did Matt say…? Oh, right. It's caught through exchange of fluids such as spit and…blood._ Craig paused, slowly looking down at the fabric dressing his wound. That fabric had still been wet with zombie blood when he had used it.

"Shit!" he cursed, pulling the bloodied fabric off as fast as he could and backing away from it. "Here's hoping that it wasn't on for too long…" But just as he said this, he could feel the hurt area on his leg pulsing, and it was hurting now more than ever. It was hurting more, and more, and more… "Ow! God dammit!" He leaned over onto his side, gripping his leg as it burned with pain. "No, I am _not_ turning into a fucking zombie!" Still, the pain didn't stop, only increased. And his eyesight was failing now, and he still had no idea why. Was loss of eyesight part of the infection? Then, all at once, the pain intensified even more, whipping through his whole body like a wildfire through a prairie field. He couldn't contain it anymore. "SHIT!" he shouted as loud as he could, not wanting to only scream. He blinked a few times, feeling his consciousness fading, then blacked out.

…...

It was later on in the day when he finally awoke. There was one thing that he noticed first: he could still see. That was an upside. But things seemed different. His senses seemed sharper. He could smell the blood splattered zombie on the other side of the roof well enough. He sat up, looking around. It seemed to be late afternoon. As he tried to stand up, he found that he had a little difficulty, so decided to crouch instead. He felt exhausted. But also, strangely, exhilarated. There was silence all around, though he could hear a ruckus of some sort in the distance. He felt like he wanted to go over and check it out, but part of him really didn't want to. The tired part of him seemed to be overruling the more awake part. He went over to the side of the roof, glancing down into the alley below, looking for a place to stay for a while. Maybe even take a nap. Down in the alley below, he saw that a mattress truck had tipped over, spilling out a few mattresses onto the ground. That looked ideal. But he didn't even think to try to find another way down. He simply jumped, as if on reflex. And to his own surprise, he was fine when he landed, dead center on the mattress. It was pretty comfy. He wouldn't mind staying there for a while. But just as he had made himself comfortable, he heard footsteps, and pulled himself up again, all of his senses on high alert. He could see a figure approaching from the street, and they stopped as soon as they saw him. It was another one of the infected people it looked like. But instead of asking a question, due to the alarms going off in his brain, he felt a growl rising up in his throat. The figure on the street backed up a bit, but wouldn't leave, and so, he decided to try to calm down and ask them who they were. He managed to cut off his growl, tried to find words. It felt like he hadn't talked in a really long time.

"Who are you?" was what he managed to spit out. The figure out on the street paused, then risked taking another step closer.

"…Call me Smoker," they replied. Smoker? What a weird name. "What's…your name?" He paused, trying to think up a response. When he tried to reach for the answer, it was like there was a bit black hole in his mind right where the reply had once been.

"Hell if I know," he answered, grumbling.

"Can I sit down?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Thanks," Smoker heaved himself down onto the mattress, breathing deeply. He seemed pretty tired, too. "You know, if we find some of those people who aren't like us, they might know you're name. They knew mine."

"Why?"

"I don't know. They just did. And they shouted it, then ran away. Like I scared them or something."

"I'd probably be scared of you, too, if I was normal."

"You look a lot more normal than I do, though," Smoker managed to chuckle. "I've got all these huge tumor things…and this tongue, no less…"

"Hey…" the other one, who still couldn't remember his own name, paused. "Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar."

"So do you," Smoker replied. "But I don't think I know you, either way."

"Huh. Weird."

"So…what do you think is going to happen? I mean, from here on out. What're we supposed to do?"

"Don't know," came the reply. "But either way…we're going to find out. Let's just stay here for now. While it's quiet."

"Are you sure that that'll work?"

"I don't know. We'll just have to see, I guess. We'll just have to see."

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Lol and yes, Hunter has eyes in my world. Just because I don't wanna accept that he doesn't have any. XD Well, anyway, next chapter is going to be Boomer! Look forward to it! :3


	4. Boomer

It's DONE! Omg. Sorry that this took so long. My power just came back on today, and it's been out since Sunday afternoon cause of all of the ginormous thunderstorms. But, now I'm back! :D And I have a headache. D8 But oh well! Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Left 4 Dead 2 in any way, shape, or form! I only own my OCs and the plot of the fanfic.

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Matt thought that he knew everything that he had to know about the Green Flu. They were even studying it in his pre-med class at college, due to the uproar about it raring up all over the country. According to the government, it was either transmitted through airborne means, or by exchange of fluids. And it was supposedly some sort of advanced strain of rabies. Apparently it could be avoided, just like the flu, or any other disease of the same sort. And that was pretty much all that he knew about it. And that was all that Matt thought that he would have to know about it. After all, he was studying to enter the field of medicine, so he was pretty sure that he could handle it. The bell rang, bringing Matt out of his thoughts, and pulling his eyes to the front of the classroom, where the teacher had just dismissed the class.

"Hey, Matt, remember to meet us at the restaurant later!" a classmate called as most of them left the room. Matt put his notebook into his backpack, slung it over one shoulder, then started on his way out at a speed walk. He didn't want to be late for his study group's lunch out, after all. They were going to a new seafood restaurant in town, and it was supposed to be pretty good. So, they were going to go out to lunch, then head to one of the guy's houses to study. All in all, it was going to be a good day. He made his way to the door to the building, almost stumbling on his way down the stairs, then started for the parking lot, through the plaza. He checked his watch, then realized that he really didn't have much time to get to the restaurant, and sped up his pace.

"Hey, Matt," came a call, and he turned to his Alex leaning up against a lamppost, cigarette lit, and all by himself. "What's your hurry?"

"Me and the guys are going out to dinner before we study together!" Matt replied quickly, jogging towards his car in the parking lot. "Sorry, I gotta go! Talk to you later!"

"Right," he could barely hear Alex say just as he reached his car. He opened up the door to the driver's seat, careful not to bump Alex's motorcycle. Alex was usually mellow, but he pretty much exploded onto anyone that hurt his motorcycle. He practically treated the thing like it was his child…Matt waved through the window before driving away, but Alex didn't seem to see. Then, just as he was pulling out of the parking lot, he heard a loud speaker come on. He was going to stay and listen to the announcement, but the cars behind him really seemed to want to get out, so he kept going, turning onto the street and driving in the direction of the restaurant. It only took him a few minutes to get there. He parked in the parking lot, left his bag in the passenger seat, locking the car once he was out. He did like his car, though Alex was always telling him that he should get a new one, since this one was pretty run down. This car was fine though. It would do. He pushed the keys down into his pocket, then started for the stairs into the restaurant. He found his group up in the front, joined them, and soon enough, they had been seated outside. It was a very scenic sitting area. It was like a deck, and they were sitting right next to one of the white painted railings. Some plants were hanging from the ceiling, and you could see a few trees and the street from where they sat. There was an awning over their heads, so the harsh noon sun wasn't _that_ bad. Still, the scenery was the only thing that Matt was impressed with. This restaurant seemed just the same as all the other restaurants. It had the same menu as all the other seafood restaurants around, he noticed, and as per usual for all eateries, most of the servers were girls wearing sleeveless shirts and shorts so short that they could practically be called belts. Matt didn't join in when the rest of the guys at his table started checking out the girls, and rather, looked out on the street. There were a lot of cars down there, all of them raring, and none of them parked, even at the parking meters. It seemed like a lot of people were trying to get out of town. No doubt because of the predictions on the news that The Green Flu was going to reach their town soon. And nobody wanted to be caught in this epidemic. As if Swine Flu hadn't been enough, now this. Just how many of these pandemics would this country have to go through?

"Hey Matt, what's up?" came a question, pulling Matt once again out of his thoughts.

"Oh, nothing," he replied. "I was just looking at the trees down there."

"What's so great about trees?" another one of the boys questioned. Matt shrugged. He liked wildlife. It was a hobby of his to go hiking when he got the time.

"What can I get for you boys?" a waitress came up to their table, wearing the same smile that all of the other girls serving wore, her blonde curls falling partially down over her face. All of them paused to order, and Matt got the lobster ravioli. He figured that he deserved a treat everyone once in a while. Plus, he had the money to pay for it. A little while longer, and the food was delivered. Matt had been daydreaming the whole time in between. Then, he noticed something. From where they were sitting, he could see the road that he had come down to get to the restaurant. And back from where he had come from, he could see thin trails of smoke billowing up into the sky. It looked like they were coming from the school.

"Hey, look," he pointed in that direction, getting the other boys' attention. "Something's going on at the school." The others looked, and a mumbled conversation ensued, most of which Matt didn't hear. He cut a piece off of a ravioli, putting it into his mouth. The lobster inside tasted like cardboard. And it was made even more tasteless when all of a sudden, they heard a loud and echoing howl, coming from the direction of the school.

"What was that?" Matt asked, gulping down the lump of food and trying to keep his gag reflex from going off.

"I've got no idea…some dogs, maybe?" one of his friends suggested. They really didn't seem quite phased by it, but Matt was busy thinking. He remembered that when infected by The Green Flu, the victims suffer damage to their brains, making them simply run rampant. Was that what that growling had been? Were there infected people inside the city? He glanced around again, then saw a clump of people approaching the city at a breakneck pace, all of them not seeming quite normal.

"Guys, I think we should go," Matt stood up quickly. No one else seemed to hold the same degree of concern that he did, even when he pointed out the clump of figures approaching the city. "Well, I'm going to get going anyway. See you guys later." Matt started out of the restaurant before anyone else could say anything. He was approaching his car down on the street when he realized just how packed with traffic the street was, and saw that he wouldn't be able to drive out. So, as he could see the clump coming ever closer and hear the growling getting louder, he quickly went into the nearest building, which was a public bathroom. There were CEDA posters all over the walls, all of them warning about the Green Flu and its effects. It also said how to avoid it. Tactics such as not coming into contact with infected individuals. That was pretty much impossible at this point. Still, he decided to listen to the listed advice anyway, and began skimming over the poster. It was while he was reading that he heard the first scream. He turned, and peered out of one of the small windows that looked out onto the street. It was pure chaos. People were running, victims were screaming, and blood was splattering. Matt saw that the figures that had stampeded into the intersection were very pale in complexion, their skin looking gray. He couldn't get a good look at them otherwise, but he saw that they were covered in blood. Right after seeing an arm being gnawed right off of someone's body, with blood splattering up onto the window in front of him as the severed arm was pulled away, Matt felt as if he was going to throw up. Still, he knew that he was going to have to try to help his friends back at the restaurant somehow. He went to the door, opening it and looking out. He could see the friends he had come with coming hurriedly down the stairs to the restaurant, and was about to wave them over to the sanctuary of the bathroom when suddenly, they were swarmed and overpowered by more of the infected people. Matt felt like he should go do something, but didn't know what he could do. A split second before he went back inside, he felt a stinging pain across his upper arm, and saw a pair of snow white eyes out of his peripheral vision. He moved back inside the door, shutting it quickly. For fear of the infected people coming into the bathroom, he backed up into one of the stalls, locking the door. It was then that the door to the bathroom burst open, and he could hear shouting among the growling as people, seemingly both infected and not, barged into the bathroom. Matt could hear them specifically shouting. He could understand what they were saying.

"Help! Somebody help!" one cried out.

"I don't want to die! Someone help us!"

"We can't-" the shouting was cut off. Matt held his breath in the silence that followed. Then, there was more growling and a distinctive squishing noise. Matt couldn't help it anymore. He felt bile rushing up his throat and up into his mouth, but knew that it would attract attention to himself if he let it out. As he tried to keep his mouth shut, some of it dripped out of the corner of his lips, dribbling onto his shirt. Finally, he heard the infected people inside leave, and the door was left ajar. He could still hear the sounds outside. He turned to the toilet, letting out all of the bile that had built up, and suddenly feeling very shaky and weak. He flushed what he had thrown up, wiped his chin, then went out of the stall. He closed the door, and made his way over to the sinks, grabbing a paper towel and wiping his hands. He hardly noticed how badly he was shaking. He looked down at the paper towel in his hand and noticed something.

"Green?" he said, regarding the bile. "I didn't eat anything green today…" He threw away the paper towel, then looked at the cut on his am. It looked inflamed and swollen, even though it was just a little bit of a scratch. Still, he hoped that he wasn't going to become infected because of it. It was then when he suddenly felt, without warning, more bile coming up his throat, and he threw up into the sink. It was green again. He turned on the water, washing the sink out, and was feeling even more shaky at this point. He wondered if that scratch on his arm was actually a bite mark. He couldn't tell. It was then that his phone rang. He reached down into his pocket, fumbling around with the device for a moment, then opened it up. He looked at the number on the screen. That was Craig's number. Craig was okay. He pressed the button to connect the call, then lifted the phone up to his face.

"H-Hello?" he said, surprised at how uneven his own voice sounded.

"Oh, hey, Matt," Craig's voice came through, sounding a bit relieved about something. "Do you know what happened down at the school?"

"N-No, I'm not at the school…" Matt replied, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up again.

"Hey, are you okay? You sound kinda weird," Craig said, the phone reception crackling up into static momentarily while he talked, then returning to normal.

"Craig, did you get bitten?" Matt asked, ignoring the question that had been directed at him. He just wanted to know if Craig was okay.

"Bitten? What are you talking about?" Craig seemed confused. "Bitten by what? A dog or something?" Was it possible that Craig didn't even know what was happening?

"Craig, you have to get out of town. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else!" as Matt raised his voice, the queasy feeling came back at him suddenly in full blast, and he puked into the sink, trying his best to avoid the phone while still listening for Craig's reply.

"Dude, are you okay?" Craig asked, sounding worried. "Are you throwing up or something?" Matt's hands were shaking so badly that he could barely even hold the phone anymore. He felt so sick that he hardly noticed the increasing pain in the wound on his arm.

"Go, Craig, you have to-" Matt was about to issue some instructions when suddenly, the phone slipped out of his shaking hand, falling to the edge of the sink and sliding down into the bowl. Then, the nausea hit again. Matt couldn't stop himself, and threw up into the sink, right where the phone was laying. Matt didn't even bother trying the phone to see if it worked when he was done. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, stumbling backwards a bit. He felt almost unconscious, wondering what was gong to happen to him. And what had happened to all his friends. Then, he fell over to the ground, and everything went black.

…...

After he awoke, he was confused. He had left the bathroom, wandering around the city and wondering just who he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He also wondered why he threw up so often, but there was really no stopping that. He didn't know how many days he had simply walked around for. One, maybe two? Maybe even three. But it was on that last day of wandering that he found himself seated on a piece of debris in a small clearing in front of a building. And it was then when he saw the two others staring at him from inside one of the alleys. They were talking in hushed tones, though every now and then, he was able to hear the hooded one. What were they talking about, though?

"Uh…hey," called out the one not wearing a sweatshirt after a while. "You aren't one of the ones that stumbles around speaking gibberish, right?"

"No, I don't think so," was the reply that he gave. He sincerely hoped that the two over in the alley wouldn't ask for his name. It was so embarrassing. He had happened to see two people who didn't have the gray skin he saw on everyone, and they had shouted out "Boomer" when they had seen him. What a ridiculous name!

"So, what's your name?" the hooded one asked immediately after Boomer thinking about that, almost as if on cue.

"It's Boomer," Boomer sighed, finally relenting to telling someone his name. "I know that it's a weird name. Don't laugh."

"Don't worry, we've all got weird names," one of the ones in the alley, the one with the long tongue dangling out of his mouth, replied.

"I don't have a weird name," the hooded one grumbled.

"I'm Smoker," the first one said, walking out of the alley. "And he's Hunter."

"See? My name isn't weird. It's pretty cool, I think."

"Well, either way…are you all by yourself?" Smoker asked Boomer.

"Yeah, I am," Boomer replied. "I have been since I woke up."

"Well, why don't you come with us then?" Smoker asked. Hunter grumbled something quietly, but didn't say anything outright. "I mean, it must not be very fun being by yourself, right?"

"Are you sure that that would be okay?" Boomer asked, slightly surprised. He had never even seen any others like him who could talk properly, let alone ask to be friends.

"Sure, it's fine," Smoker nodded. "We've got enough room in our alley, after all. A mattress truck fell over and spilled into the alley, so we've got places to sleep, too."

"And even though I hate to say this, we could use some help with the survivors," Hunter added.

"Survivors? Who are they?" Boomer asked, standing up to go with them.

"We'll explain it all to you once we get back," Smoker said. "The alley's this way, let's go." Smoker and Hunter walked out in front, and Boomer followed behind them. Boomer was happy about this. He was making new friends. He had been unsure before, but…maybe things weren't going to turn out so bad after all.

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Lol. The restaurant in the chapter is actually based off of a real restaurant near my house. We did sit on the deck. There were girls wearing annoyingly skimpy clothes. And the lobster ravioli _did_ taste like cardboard. I am never going there again. ._. Lol but at least it gave me the idea for this chapter! That's the one good thing it's done for me… XD


	5. Tank

Well, here's the first chapter from my writing in the land of no internet! I wrote this all in between the time I got here and dinner time. o_o; And somehow, Tank's past is a lot less interesting to me than that of other characters… XD Anyway, this will be the first of many many updates! It'll be a surge of updates…a final stretch before school starts…well, anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Left 4 Dead or Left 4 Dead 2 in any way, shape, or form! I only own my OCs and the plot of the fanfic.

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Trent was running…running…and, touchdown! The crowd went absolutely wild.

"Home team wins!" the announcer shouted. The crowd was going into a total frenzy of cheering, and obviously wasn't going to calm down anytime soon.

"Yeah!" Trent raised his hands into the air in victory, waving to the crowd and winking at his girlfriend, who was sitting in the front row with her friends. He had won the game. Yet again. Trent was the star player on his college football team. Loved by all and only hated by those who thought he were shallow, but those people fell into the category of "losers" anyway. A second later, he was swarmed by his teammates with congratulations and pats on the back. He felt great. Not even all of the bad reports on the news could get him down now. After all, he was athletic, popular, and even had a great girlfriend. Life was perfect. The doctors could just take all of that "Green Flu" crap and shove it up their-

"Nice touchdown, Trent!" suddenly, Natalie was running over, bringing with her the entourage of girls that seemed to constantly follow her around for some reason. She was still the best girlfriend a guy could ask for, though.

"Thanks, baby," Trent bent down to give her a quick kiss, which was sometimes a bit of challenge since he was so tall.

"I can't believe that we're going to win the championship! Well, we're not there yet, but I know that you'll pull through," Natalie smiled at him.

"Alright team, time to come change!" the coach was shouting to the team, calling them over.

"See you after I change, 'kay?" Trent turned away from the coach and back to Natalie.

"Okay," Natalie nodded. "I'll wait by your car. See you there!"

…...

One change of clothes and a pep talk later, Trent was ready to go. He was in a great mood while he was on his way to the parking lot, but as soon as he got there, the mood was soiled. It wasn't that Natalie wasn't there. She was there by his car, just like she said she would be. The problem was the two that were standing next to the motorcycle parked next to his car. And the two of them just so happened to be grouped into the "loser" category. Anyone from that group wasn't allowed to come within five, no, ten feet of his girlfriend. Ever. As Trent walked over, he could hear them talking, apparently about that run down piece of crap that they were referring to as a motorcycle.

"So, you can really ride this thing?"

"Yeah, of course I can. Why else would I bring it here if I couldn't ride it?"

"I dunno. To show it off or something?"

"Well, either way, I fixed it up and-" Trent cut off the conversation by slamming his gym bag down onto the hood of his car, making sure that he didn't do it hard enough to dent or scratch. The two next to the motorcycle turned to look at him.

"What?" the shorter one asked, seeming annoyed just at seeing Trent and Natalie in the first place.

"Are they bothering you?" Trent asked Natalie.

"Well, I _was_ getting a bit fed up with their stupid conversation…" Natalie sighed.

"What, so we can't talk where we want?" the one wearing the hoodie spoke again. "It's a free country."

"Not around my girlfriend it's not," Trent told him. "I think you should go before I _make_ you go."

"Trent, just calm down," the other one said, a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth, as usual. "It's not like we were hitting on your girlfriend or anything. We were just standing here and talking."

"You got the guts to stay?" Trent challenged him.

"We…uh…" the hooded one paused for a second, trying to think of something to say, "We've got the guts to, uh, kick your ass if you threaten us anymore!"

"Your comebacks are almost as bad as your fashion sense," Natalie sighed, shaking her head, her blonde hair swaying back and forth.

"Hey, I happen to _like_ this hoodie."

"People who wear hoodies all the time are just uncomfortable with their bodies."

"What? I-"

"Not surprising, for a skinny little twerp like him," Trent added.

"Hey!"

"Craig, they're just trying to bug you. Let's go," the taller one said, beginning to walk away.

"No, I'm not gonna just walk away from these guys!" Craig refused to leave.

"Ugh, come on…"

"I think that you should listen to your friend, loser. Beat it," Trent said.

"Make me!" Craig snapped.

"This can't be good…" Craig's friend, Alex, returned to the area. "Come on, let's just go find Matt or something."

"Fine," Craig sighed in exasperation. "But, there's one thing I need to say before we go." Craig cleared his throat, then paused. He lifted his arm, and pointed at Trent. "You are a muscle head jerk, and you," he pointed to Natalie, "are a bitch. Thank you for your time."

"What are you doing?" Alex pulled Craig out of the way of a well aimed punch from Trent, and the two of them took off. "Seriously, are you stupid or something?"

"Aw, come on! I could've taken him on!" Craig replied.

"Yeah, get out of here!" Trent shouted after them, pausing for a moment afterwards, then kicking the old motorcycle next to the car, which didn't fall over because the kickstand was up. Still, it got a rise out of Alex.

"My bike!" he shouted in horror, about to run back to get it before he was tugged further down the path and the around the corner by Craig, who was saying something about finding Matt to make a revenge plan. There was a bit of a pause.

"Ready to go now?" Trent turned to Natalie.

"Yup, let's go," Natalie nodded. Trent unlocked the car, and the two of them got in, driving off out of the parking lot.

…...

It had been a few days since the game, and now it was the day of an away game. Trent and the rest of the team were on the bus, and Trent was feeling a bit unhappy since he found out that Natalie couldn't make it to the game. But, he would still play his best anyway. He had heard on the news that morning that the so called Green Flu was supposed to hit his hometown on that day. Which meant that it would probably "already be" in the town they were going to. Yeah, right. What a stupid story…If the story had been true, though, Trent thought to himself that if anyone got infected with the Green Flu, that it should be all of the losers at school. Nobody liked them anyway. The bus ride was long, but they finally arrived at the town, and were surprised to find that it was practically a ghost town. Nobody was out and walking around. Everything was quiet. There weren't even any birds to be heard. The bus continued along until it got to the town square. There were a few people there, but it seemed like something was wrong with them. They were slumped over as they walked, and pale as all get out…Some of the players stayed on the bus while Trent and a few others went outside with the coach. The coach walked forward to talk to the people, but as soon as he got close to them, he was absolutely swarmed. Nobody knew what was happening until a stray hand went flying into the air from within the pack of growling people.

"Holy crap, get on the bus!" one of the other players shouted, and Trent, along with the others outside, dashed back onto the bus. "Close the door, close the do-" It was too late. What were these people? Whatever they were, they had a bloodthirsty and hungry look in their eyes, and they were storming onto the bus. Trent could hear shouting and screaming behind him as he pushed his way to the back opening up the emergency exit and jumping out. But just as the door was opened, the alarm for the door went off, and a loud growling was heard nearby.

"Come on, let's go!" Trent suddenly saw another player beside him, and they took off, trying to get away from the bloodbath going on inside of the bus. They ran and ran for who knows how long. They had to push their way through the occasional group of rabids, and by the time Trent got into a building and closed the door, the other boy was gone, and he had a gash on his lower jaw. After a few minutes, he discreetly made his way back to the bus, taking back alleys and inconspicuous passages. When he looked inside through the back, he saw that there were still people swarming around it. Was this the Green Flu? Did it really do this to people? The inside of the bus was drenched with blood, and Trent didn't dare look inside. He glanced around, and saw that there were actually a few cars abandoned on the road going out of the city. He remembered wondering why they were there as the group was coming in. Now, they would be his life saver. He ran over to one that had the door wide open and the key in the ignition. Though the sound of the engine starting attracted the eyes and attentions of the Infected, he floored it, peeling out down the road as fast as he could. He knew the way back. He wasn't all that far away from the town that they had come from. But the cut…or was it a bite mark?…on his chin was beginning to really hurt, even pulsing. Something was going on. And he knew that he had to get back before it did. After a few minutes, he arrived back, but the town was in chaos. People were screaming and blood was everywhere, the infected people rampaging around the city. And as the noise, intensified, Trent found that he couldn't take it anymore. He ran to the nearest building, went inside, and slammed the door. It was a storage room. And no one else was in there. But he could still hear the screaming, the pain in his body intensifying, and he could feel it: he was _changing_. The pulsing in his chin was spreading out now, and his body was expanding. And the pain was the worst part. Every part of his body, every inch, every _cell_ was burning in what felt like some sort of invisible fire. This continued, becoming more and more unbearable, and Trent's mind was swimming. He couldn't think anymore. He wasn't thinking anymore. All he could think was that he had to stop it. He had to get rid of the pain. He had to get rid of the source, his chin. It had to go, it had to go! It seemed to come off with unnatural ease with his new muscle tone, but as soon as it did, lights flashed in his eyes, and he fell over, passed out on the ground, the screams from outside still echoing in his head.

…...

When he woke up, he didn't know what he was feeling. All he knew was that he was angry. But he didn't know who he was angry at. He was just angry, and really wanted to break something…He was able to solve this by smashing the door and part of the wall down on his way out. He couldn't remember anything, he was irritable, and any other Infected that saw him knew that if they valued their lives, they should stay out of the way. The Commons, who didn't quite have that sort of thought process, didn't think of that, and were sent flying like flies with a fly swatter. He walked around for a while, maybe even more than a week, until he heard voices from inside an alley with some kind of truck crashed in front of it. He knew those voices. But from where…? He walked over, seeing three other Infected sitting inside the alley. And one of them…that hoodie. He didn't know why, but it really pissed him off. So much so that he full on picked up the truck by the entrance to the alley, ready to chuck it at the hooded infected. But by the tine he looked up again, the three in the alley were gone. He glanced around, then saw the hooded one trying to sneak across the street. He wasn't going to give him the time to do that.

"Shit!" the hoodie wearing Infected shouted just as the truck fell three inches from him. "Ohhh, shit I gotta get outta here…"

"Listen, we don't mean you any harm or anything," the tall and skinny Infected approached the aggressive truck throwing one. "We know that you're a Tank and all, but could you try _not_ throwing vehicles at us?"

"Tank…?" the aggressor asked, thinking about the name.

"Uhh, yeah. You know, chucks heavy stuff around? By the way, why are you chucking stuff at Hunter?"

"Don't tell him my name!" Hunter shouted from behind the fallen truck.

"He just really pisses me off," Tank told the Infected who was questioning him.

"Why?" another question was posed, this time by the stout Infected, who joined his skinny companion. "Why does he piss you off?"

"He…he just does. I don't know," Tank said, exasperated. "Maybe he reminds me of some guy I hate or something."

"Well, even so, you don't have to throw stuff at him," the skinny one shook his head, his improbably long tongue swinging back and forth as he did so. "How about this: We're all Special Infected here, right?"

"Special Infected?" Tank asked, confused.

"Is this your first time learning about this?" the bigger one asked. "Well, we can teach you about it…as long as you promise not to throw stuff at us."

"Alright, I won't throw stuff at you," Tank sighed, feeling that the agreement was tedious. "Just tell me what's going on already."

"Let's go back inside the alley," the skinny one said, beginning to head back.

"Wait, you're letting him in, Smoker?" Hunter came out from behind the truck. "He's not gonna wreck my stuff, right?"

"No, he's not gonna wreck your stuff," Smoker replied. "Now, come on."

"Fine," Hunter caught up with the group. He looked up cautiously at Tank, wondering if he would be attacked again. "Hey. Where's your jaw?"

"Pushin' your luck, squirt," Tank replied.

"Right," Hunter looked away, pretending to be distracted with something else.

"Well, either way, we can pretty much explain what's going on. Though we don't know much ourselves," Smoker said, sitting down onto one of the mattresses that had been dragged into the alley. "Let's start. We've got a lot to talk about."

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Well, the toddlers haven't been able to get to me yet, so I was able to write this pretty fast! ^^ I just can't believe that I'm going to be here for five more days… x_x I'll try to make the best of it, though, even without internet! :o Well, anyway, Witch's chapter is next! Get excited, people! :D

Lol and as for Tank's jaw…that's the only reason that I could think of for it being gone. XD Not very creative, but it'll work… ^^; Wow…this chapter seems a lot worse than the others… XD


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